


I will not leave you

by Nehesemhotep



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode 4X16 coda, Episode: s04e16 On the Head of a Pin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:44:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehesemhotep/pseuds/Nehesemhotep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few missing moments from this episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will not leave you

“You ask me to open that door, and walk through it. You will not like what walks back out.”

        “For what it’s worth, I would give anything, not to have you do this.”

        Dean shut his eyes, horror permeating him not just at the thought of becoming that _thing_ , that _monster_ , again. But also at the tiny ripple of glee that nudged at the corner of his mind. At the thought of Alastair at _his_ mercy. The things he could do. And the angels would let him. Would just sit back and watch.

Nausea rose in his throat and turning quickly, Dean strode towards the cart, fighting the bile in his throat back down. Shutting himself off from his humanity. Dean reached the cart, covered in a tarp. He allowed himself to wonder why the angels cared whether they covered their instruments of torture. If it was for them some deep seated knowing of wrongness. If they could feel wrongness, or anything at all.

Dean grabbed the edges of the cart and began to pull it backward when he felt his back stopped by a brick wall. Or what felt like one anyway. Cas stood behind him, and with one smooth motion he had reached down and grasped Dean’s wrist where it rested on the corner of the tarp.

“Dean. I’m sorry.”  The angel’s voice sounded genuinely distressed, and it threatened to break the walls Dean needed to get this job done.

Dean could feel tears of all things behind his eyelids, and clenched his jaw.  He yanked his wrist away, which Castiel let go of without resistance. Dean maneuvered around Cas and walked steadily to the door, feeling the angel’s eyes on him the whole way, but no longer allowing himself to care. Letting anger, sweet, repressed anger fill him, brace him.

~~~~~  
  


“You got a lot to learn, boy. So I’ll see you, back in class, bright and early, Monday morning”

        Dean didn’t remember anything as he slumped to the ground, didn’t even hear the last of Alastair’s taunt before his vision went white.

Didn’t see his brother destroy Alastair, the look on Sam’s face like he was a man being made whole; as he twisted the demon’s blood and smoke, laying him to waste. Didn’t see Cas yank Sam away from his crumpled form with a snarl, or how Sam shrunk with shame from the righteous fury in the angel’s gaze.  Cas held his tongue, kneeling next to Dean, reached out a hand before pausing, like he was remembering something.

His hand wavered back and forth in the air, at one point two fingers gently touching the edge of Dean’s chin before being yanked back. Cas stood and looked at Sam, expression inscrutable, before not too gently pushing against his chest.  When Sam shook his head, clearing the dizziness, he was in the parking lot of a hospital.  Dean was there also, and for one brief minute, as the stars cleared from Sam’s vision, he could have sworn he saw Cas’ hand run gently from where it rested on his forehead down across his cheekbone. But then Sam blinked, and Cas was gone.

When he saw the angel again, Cas was nearly all business, but for how his voice wavered with emotion as he spoke, jaw clenched. The way his eyes widened when Sam told him it was his fault.  

“...I don’t know what happened, that trap-it shouldn’t have broken, I am sorry.”  The angel seemed genuinely distressed, and it threatened to break the walls Sam needed to cope with his brother in the hospital bed, to shut away his guilt about the demon blood.  

So he turned away.   
  


~~~~~

 

“Find someone else, because it’s not me.”

        Dean turned his face away, feeling the tears run down his face. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Cas, feeling raw and exposed. For a long minute there was silence, and Dean thought perhaps the angel had left, flinching as he felt something touch the top of his hand. Warm fingers brushed awkwardly over the skin, then feathered away as quickly as they came, and despite himself, Dean turned his face back.

Cas shied from his gaze, remained silent. Dean found himself staring at the creature in front of him. The one that raised him from hell. And sometimes Cas acted as if he actually gave a shit. A small sob broke from Dean’s chest.  He pressed his face into the pillow to muffle the sobs that he couldn’t stop from coming.  And instantly he wanted the angel to get the fuck away, while at the same time pleading for him to touch his hand again.  

Castiel did neither.  Instead, Dean felt one hand slip in between his tear stained cheek and the pillow, and the other cupped the outside of his jaw, so his face was cradled in Cas’ hands. Softly, unsure, the angel turned Dean’s face to look at him. Cas’ hands trembled slightly, but his gaze was earnest.

“I can’t pretend to know what you’re feeling, Dean,” his name rolling of Cas’ tongue with an tender apology, “But whatever my father asks of you, I will not leave you.”  Clearing his throat, Cas’ hands fell to his sides and he sat back down in his chair, resuming his former position.  Dean opened his mouth to speak, but his eyelids felt impossibly heavy.

The righteous man fell back to sleep, his angel keeping vigil at his side.


End file.
